


There Is Strength In Numbers

by poldarked_fangirl



Category: Aidan Turner - Fandom, The Clinic (TV 2003)
Genre: Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Aidan, Hurt/Comfort, aidan turner - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 09:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7886533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poldarked_fangirl/pseuds/poldarked_fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I always wondered what would've happened to Ruairí if the series had continued.  Here's my take on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Is Strength In Numbers

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you IMMENSELY to the amazing beta reader: @chocolatepig221bteasatfour on Tumblr.!! You're the best, and so great with my being so slow finishing my Poldark story. Love ya, darlin'!!!  
> ***I've only seen anything from "The Clinic" from the YouTube videos of Aidan Turner's scenes posted by AidanTurnerCorner, as the show is close to impossible to find on DVD.  
> Please be kind, I know nothing of the series not involving Ruairí, so I have to run with the little bits that I know, and make things up as I go along. Enjoy!***

Ruairí screamed.  The wound in his abdomen pulled painfully as Dan and Lorcan lifted him into Dan’s strong arms.  His side was burning with fire and he felt the blood pooling all over.  He couldn’t hold in his cries of pain even though he desperately tried to. 

  
Across the room, Clodagh, Cara, Daisy, and a very pregnant Keelin, who is also in the early stages of labor, are crying.   

  
_How had it all gotten to this?_ Diarmuid had brought someone in for treatment earlier.  Something made him mad, and he’d held the staff of Clarence Street hostage for the past couple hours.  About an hour ago, Keelin had come downstairs and had been shoved inside the locked office with them.  A while after that, her labor started.  Probably due to all the stress. 

 

Anyway, Daisy had finally had enough and told Diarmuid exactly what she thought of him.  _“You make me sick!”_   Those were the words she used.  She was right too; he _was_ sick.  The way he treated women…and people in general.  What a monster!  But Ruairí was proud of the way she stood up to him.  It was one of the reasons he was attracted to her.  She was strong.

 

Too strong.  Diarmuid, in retaliation, slapped her and yelled at all the girls to get back in the office.  That’s when it happened. Ruairí, taken over with anger and wanting to defend Daisy, jumped the desk.  As he landed, a loud _BANG!_ echoed from the barrel of the gun.  The next thing he knew was pain.  Massive, consuming, intolerable pain.  Clodagh and Daisy were already turning him over to see, while Lorcin broke through the glass door to come help. Ruairí could hear another door and running footsteps as Dan burst out of his office.

 

“What’s happening?!” he yelled.  
  
“Dan!” Lorcin called him over.  “I need you!”

 

“Dan, do something!” Daisy was crying.  “Do something, please!”

 

Ruairí didn’t think Dairmuid had even realized he’d shot him.  And in the stomach too!  He may only work in reception, but he had learned enough from his co-workers to know how serious this was… _kidneys, lymph nodes… oh, and don’t forget the, ugh what was it called?  Oh yeah!  Abdominal aorta!_   _Damn, no wonder he was already bleeding so much…_

 

But now here they were.  Keelin about to pop any second, literally, and Ruairí bleeding all over the Clinic waiting area.  _And Cara just mopped too._  
  
Dan stood in the doorway, holding Ruairí in his arms. 

  
“I’m warning you, Dan,” Dairmuid called.  His gun was pointed to Dan’s back.  “One more step and I’m firing,” his hand shook.

 

A moment passed… you could’ve heard a pin drop.  Till Dan whispered, “Come on,” to Ruairí, and proceeded to carry him out the front door and down the stairs.  “Somebody call and ambulance!” he called to the guards as he set the injured young man down on the pavement.

 

Moments later, guards ran inside and the staff of Clarence Street ran out.  “Ruairí!” Daisy called. 

 

“You’re gonna be okay, Ruairí,” Dan comforted, leaning over, keeping pressure on the wound. 

 

“Is there an ambulance coming, Dan?” Daisy squatted beside him. 

 

“Yeah, there’s one called.” 

 

“Ruairí, you’re gonna be okay,” she was still crying. 

 

By now, everyone was gathered round outside.  Cara and Grace had crowded near Ruairí.  Grace was leaning over, gently stroking his hair, trying to comfort him.  “Shh, it’s okay, Ruairí,” she kept saying. 

 

People kept asking if he was alright, while Dan was telling him to hang in there.  “It’s alright,” he soothed as Ruairí’s body began to shake.  He could taste blood.

 

“Dan, what’s happening?” Daisy began to panic.

 

“His body’s going into shock… loss of blood… Ruairí,” he looked at him right dead in the eyes.  “Ruairí, listen to me.  Your body’s reacting to the trauma.  You need to breathe.  Take a deep breath, slow it down.” 

 

“I… I can’t…” he tried to speak.  “Hurts… too much… Dan…”

 

“Okay, calm down, just try for me, alright?” Dan tried to guide Ruairí as the sound of an ambulance wailing loudly approached. 

 

In a rush the paramedics quickly got him onto a gurney; not without sounds of obvious discomfort from Ruairí.  Before they took him into the back of the ambulance, he stopped them.

 

“Grace!” he called, his hand reaching out in search of her.

 

“I’m here, Ruairí,” she took a step forward and grasped his hand warmly between her own.

 

“Grace…?  Would you… call my Mum…”

 

The older woman smiled, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “Of course.  I will meet you at the hospital with her soon.”

 

Ruairí managed a small smile of gratitude before the paramedics whisked him away.  Before the doors closed, Dan and Daisy piled in with him. 

 

While Dan quickly set about gathering things from the ambulance’s supplies drawers, Daisy knelt on the floor beside the gurney, close to Ruairí, trying to comfort him.  He didn’t even seem to notice when Dan stuck the needle through his skin to get the IV started. 

 

“Ruairí?” he called.  “I’m giving you some morphine through the IV.  It’ll help with the pain.”

 

Ruairí didn’t answer.  He didn’t trust his voice not to sound pathetic and small. 

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Daisy saw Dan pick up a scalpel. “What are you going to do with that?” she asked, though she already knew.

 

Dan sighed.  “This can’t wait, Daisy.  I need to at least start trying to find the bullet… the longer it’s in there, the worse he’s going to get.”

 

She nodded.  Leaning forward, so she was closer to Ruairí, she braced her left arm across his chest, just near his collar-bone, to hold him down.  “I’ll try to hold him down for you,” she said to Dan, who just nodded his thanks.  Neither of them was looking forward to this.  Her right arm lay beside him.  Linking her fingers in his, she smiled at him and spoke.  “Just squeeze my hand, Ruairí, alright?”

 

Just as Dan was about to begin, he stopped. 

 

“What is it?” Daisy asked. 

 

“What?” Ruairí called.  His voice sounded so weak.

 

“Nothing, Ruairí, it’s alright,” she stroked his hair.  “Dan, what’s wrong?” she whispered.

 

“Damn,” he swore.

 

“What?” Daisy asked again, sounding desperate.

 

“That settles it,” he said to himself, but was heard.  “Ruairí?” he put his hands on the young man’s face, forcing him to look at him.  “Ruairí, listen to me.  The bullet severed an artery.  I have to start things here if there’s a chance.  Do you understand?”

 

Ruairí sighed, desperate for all this pain and horror to end, but nodded.  Dan patted his shoulder and smiled encouragingly.  “I’ll go as fast as I can,” he promised before getting up and setting to begin again.

 

Just as he held the scalpel above the wound, Ruairí’s hand flailed out and grabbed his wrist.  Looking up, he was met with frightened eyes.  “Dan…?  Am I going to die?” he whispered.

 

Dan looked at Daisy.  She was crying again.  Returning his gaze to the young man, he answered him.  “No.  I’m not going to let that happen.  I promise.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Ruairí let his grip go and again clasped Daisy’s hand.  He grit his teeth and tried to stay still as he felt the blade tear and pull at the skin around the wound. 

 

“I thought the morphine was supposed to help,” Daisy said.

 

“I can’t give him any more without monitoring his heart rate, and there’s no machines here…” Dan sighed.  The little he had given him took some of the edge off, but he knew that was small consolation compared to the agony Ruairí was going through right now. 

  
Ruairí’s attempts at remaining strong were abandoned the second Dan started digging for the bullet.  His face contoured in pain as he squeezed his eyes shut.  His back arched off the gurney as he screamed through burning, excruciating pain.  Fingernails cut into the palm of Daisy’s hand and her hand cramped with his death-grip, but she didn’t complain.  She gently stroked his face and tried to comfort him.

 

Dan set about first to close the artery, once he was sure the bullet was not lodged inside.  Ruairí tried to breathe through the pain as he felt the needle sliding painfully in and out, stitching the artery closed. 

 

“Ruairí?” Dan called.  He looked at him.  “I’ve finished the stitches on the artery.  Now I need you to take a deep breath.”

 

Ruairí sighed and began to shake his head.  “Dan…”

 

“I know it’s painful, but you have to.  Just try, please.  It doesn’t have to be a big breath.”

 

After one failed attempt, Ruairí managed to breathe deep enough, and Dan began to dig for the bullet.  Pain exploded in Ruairí’s mind as he tried to stay conscious.  But it was too much for him.  He wasn’t even aware of the ambulance doors opening and the gurney moving into the hospital emergency room.


End file.
